


Hell's Torture for Heaven's General

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Dean Winchester, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:58:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is captured by Crowley, Dean uses a skillset they have in common to find where his angel's hidden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell's Torture for Heaven's General

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally sent as an extended ask-fic on tumblr.
> 
> I own nothing, Kripke takes all, I just really like Dean torturing for Cas.

Balthazar stared at the rotten, grotesque face of the demon strapped down to the chair in front of him. The flesh of its vessel was female and smiled sweetly at him. He frowned, the soul of the poor woman within, he wanted nothing more than to smite the foul creature, to put her out of her misery so she could ascend to Heaven. But he couldn’t. Not yet. This demon knew where Crowley had trapped Castiel and they needed the information. Behind him Dean was pacing, driving him nuts.

From the moment they tied the desecrated soul in stolen flesh down he’d been jumpy. The slightest noises and movements startled him, he was aggitated by almost every word that left anyone’s mouth. Even Sam was beginning to grow irritated with him. Bobby was trying to calm him but Balthazar knew it wouldn’t do any good. Inias once said that of all humans Dean was the most like Castiel, the most worthy of him. Dean was fierce, protective and uncompromising. The worst person to cross.

Samandriel stood off to the side, ready to start with chants that would hurt the demon but not the host. There were angelic guards posted all over that kept the premises secure and hidden. The only worry was one of time. It was unknown if Castiel was safe or even if he was alive. Though they doubted the former and hope for the latter. The demon would smirk at Dean every time he came into her line of sight. It was pushing its luck when that was the last thing it could afford to do.

Mercifully Dean left the room and Balthazar started in on questioning the creature. “Where is Castiel?” It smirked again and remained silent. The only times it used its host’s voice was when it was screaming in pain. Balthazar’s patience was running very thin. His friend was somewhere, possibly not even in the same dimension anymore, and he was in trouble. What kind was yet undetermined. However, he couldn’t be summoned and no one in Heaven or on Earth could hear his section of the Song.

The door burst open and Dean stepped back inside with a bag slung over his shoulder. Balthazar cursed under his breath and moved to intercept him. “Dean, what d’you think you are doing?”

The hunter stared past him, at the demon in the chair. His eyes were cold and what Balthazar could read of his emotions were colder. “You’re getting all of nowhere. We needed to find Cas two days ago. Get the fuck out of my way.” The other angels glanced at them nervously.

Dean could be crude, but outright disrespect was somewhat rare anymore. Most angels had proven their loyalty to Cas and humanity. “So what, you’re going to torture it?” Dean turned his gaze to Balthazar. The usual fire in his eyes was replaced with something harder and more uncaring.

“You were gonna smite her anyway, the sooner we get this done, the better. Now fucking move, Bal.”

Balthazar sighed and stepped away, allowing Dean to pass by him.

Samandriel backed away and sat down at the side of the room, his expression nervous. Bobby and Sam were gaping owlishly at the scene as Dean pulled the demon blade, holy water and salt from his bag. He took out a syringe and a small cup next. A crystal rosary was produced from the jug of holy water, still dripping when Dean moved toward the girl in the chair. “Here, hold this.” He pried her jaw open and shoved the blessed metal inside. The wail of pain she let out was the loudest yet.

Everyone cringed, the demon spitting out the rosary swiftly. It was bloody and slick with saliva as it dropped into her lap. She looked at Dean, malice twisting her face as she spat at him. “We killed your angel, Dean. He died knowing he’d nev—” Her voice broke into a shriek as Dean stabbed into her thigh with the demon blade, the flesh underneath lighting up as the demon was shredded under the stolen flesh.

“Bullshit, where is he?” Dean’s voice was cold, the room growing colder with it.

Dean dragged the blade down, gouging into her bone as he tore her thigh open. He left the blade imbedded as he walked back to his supplies. Bobby got up and left the room, muttering about finding a bathroom. Dean seemed to ignore anything outside him and the demon. He lifted the jug of holy water, walking back over to the bound girl, his intent clear. “Where is he?”

She sneered at him. “I remember you from Hell, Dean.”

“Then you know I’m the last guy you want to fuck with.” The jug was tilted just enough to spill over the large, bleeding gash. Sizzling and screaming filled the air, sobbing coming after as Dean pulled the bottle back. “Where is he?”

She laughed weakly. “You won’t find him.” Dean set the jug down next to her tied feet, rooting around his bag until he produced a handful of the kind of salt used on roadways in winter. The crystals were large and jagged. The demon showed fear.

Dean’s free hand delved into the ripped muscle of the demon’s leg, prying it open while the salt was packed in. The demon thrashed from under her restraints. Balthazar wanted to turn away, he’d seen much in his life, but this sort of behavior had always made him uncomfortable. Dean was getting her to talk, so even if he didn’t like it he couldn’t stop it. “Where is Castiel? I’m only asking you this one last time before a syringe of salted holy water goes into your veins. You hear me?”

“He’s in a ring of holy fire.” Her voice was rough, the screaming taking its toll on her vocal chords.

“Where?” Dean’s voice was barely more than a hiss as he spoke. She looked between him and the bag on the other side of the room, his supplies in plain view. Balthazar could see her train of thought. To refuse to speak further would only cause her more pain.

She looked to him then, she knew he’d smite her once she spoke. “An abandoned bunker used during world war two in Germany.”

“Anything more specific than that?” She shook her head, her breathing shaky. “I haven’t been there and Crowley won’t tell anyone other than the guards its exact location. That’s all I know.” Dean stood straight, pulling the blade free of her leg roughly.

“The building got anything to keep other angels out?”

She shrugged and Dean moved to grab the jug of holy water at her feet. “I don’t know! I’ve given you everything! Let the angel kill me!”

Dean grunted and picked the bottle up before pouring it over her head. “That was for takin’ so damn long.” He recapped the bottle and put everything back in his bag. Balthazar almost wanted to apologize to her for Dean’s behavior, but she did it to herself by not speaking to him. He laid his hand on her forehead and tore her twisted spirit apart, the room breathing a collective sigh of relief that it was over.


End file.
